


When We Were Young

by CelesteSkyeHolmes



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Friends to Lovers, How to be Canadian, Love, Mention of abuse, Other, Past Abuse, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2019-08-19 06:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16529027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteSkyeHolmes/pseuds/CelesteSkyeHolmes
Summary: “I promise I’ll come back,” she had said. But she never did.Twelve years later, they find each other lost in the same city. Except she doesn't remember. Because following their dreams meant saying goodbye.OR: The one with one ballerina, one hockey player, and two mothers who will do anything to play cupid.





	1. You're Like a Dream Come True

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to write my most tragic story yet, but then this story came to mind. The trilogy is underway. Inspired by Scott's interview, “We didn’t have a passion for the sport until we were skating together.”
> 
> For Adam: The kindest soul I've ever known. I love you.  
> And to all the friends I've lost simply because Canada is such a large country - you were not forgotten.

October brimmed with tournaments, responsibilities, and a gust that made him regret leaving his scarf in his  _ One St. Thomas  _ condo. He headed west, shivering in his faux-leather jacket. A few more minutes in the cold would make him the city’s next headline. 

Despite being the most valuable player of the local hockey team, the Toronto Maples Leafs, Scott Moir despised the cold. He feverishly checked the weather forecasts, only to be disappointed by Canada’s unpredictable nature. Determined to make the most of his day off, he ignored the wind that seared through his bones. Autumn enchanted the city, trees painted yellow, orange, and red. It was impossible not to admire the downtown view, as he passed by the  _ Royal Ontario Museum _ , before entering the closest Tim Hortons. 

But even his morning coffee couldn’t prepare him for what was to come.

…

It had been a pleasant morning, until a stranger hollered his name from across the street. He waved politely, before being met with a string of profanities. Avoiding the situation before he could utter words he would come to regret, Scott rushed into the closest building. At the same moment, a petite brunette had been exiting the store. Somewhere between the two incidences, an almond milk cappuccino spilt across her finely printed handbag.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, as she fretted over the condition of her purse. “Is there anything I can do?”

“I can’t be late,” she said.

“Well, what time do you need to be-”

Scott studied her.  _ Sullen eyes, concealer, and messy bun, probably a student. _

“My class is at 9 am,” she confirmed.

“It’s 7:20,” he said flatly.

“But traffic-”

“Unless you’re headed to York University, I wouldn’t worry about that.”

“But I leave at the same time every morning.”

“And remind me how that’s helping you right now.”

Scott smiled, as she finally relented. He paid for her drink, as they seated themselves at a quiet corner in the back.

…

“Tessa,” he mused, glancing at her cup. “Pretty name.”

She averted her gaze suddenly, “I always thought it was silly. My middle name is Jane, and when I was younger, I used to beg my mother to call me that instead. She never did though.”

“No, I like it,” he said. Her green eyes speckled with familiarity, making his heart race.

He offered to clean her purse, wanting to occupy his hands with anything that would make him look like less of a fool. 

“And who are you?” she asked, as he polished the surface of her Kate Spade.

After taking a glimpse around the café, he whispered, “I’m Scott.”

“Why are you whispering?”

“Wait, you don’t recognise me?”

She gave him a puzzled look before laughing.

“And what exactly should I know you from? I haven’t seen you in any movies.”

“I’m a hockey player,” he said, offended.

“I don’t watch sports,” she shook her head. “Who has the time?”

_ But it’s hockey _ , he wanted to say.  _ Are you even Canadian? _

“Stop judging me,” she glared. “I actually used to figure skate when I was younger.”

_ I know _ , he thought. Instead he asked, “What made you stop?”

“Well, The National Ballet of Canada offered me a position. Ballet has always been my passion, and you should’ve seen my mother’s face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so proud. She was the one who insisted that we move, and I’ve been here ever since.”

He nodded, “I’m sure it was a tremendous accomplishment for you.” Trying to change the topic, he inquired, “Do you come here often?”

“Every day.”

“So let me get this straight: first you hate hockey, but then you pick Starbucks over Tims? Who are you?”

She raised the question of brutality in sports, and the efficiency of the Starbucks rewards program. Scott listened intently, drawn by her arguments and boldness. He had no rebuttal. 

Tessa talked about her love for psychology, and pursuing law. This week, she would be opening a new play for the company. With every word, another memory emerged in his mind. How many years had he waited, asking for this exact moment? Wondering if her hair still smelt like strawberries, if she would be as successful as he had imagined her. If she would be as beautiful.

Twelve years later, and he was as enraptured as ever. Except she didn’t remember him, so he would watched her walk out again. It wasn’t the first time, but part of him wished it wasn’t the last either. He tried to mask his dismay, hoping his efforts would not be futile. 

His mouth had numbed, barely audible to his own echo. Hastily, he scribbled his number onto a napkin, and slipped it into her bag - hoping that maybe he would be lucky this time.

…

Meanwhile, Kate Virtue stepped into an old skating arena, greeting her old friend. 

“I hoped I’d find you here, there’s something I need to tell you.”


	2. But If By Chance You're Here Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tessa finds herself back in London for the first time in years, as one of many Moir-Virtue dinners begin.

“London?” Tessa asked incredulously. “You bought a house here?”

It was Thanksgiving weekend, when they pulled into the driveway of the southern Ontario home. Her mother unveiled the grand Victorian, a surprise she had teased about for the past several months. Tessa had expected a pet or some accessories, but this was unlike her mother. Kate Virtue was one of the most calculated people she knew, and never went about anything without a plan. Something felt amiss.

Firstly, they were in their hometown, a place they had not returned to since their move to Toronto. Secondly, when Tessa opened the steel door, the interior had been fully furnished. Leather sofas, throw pillows, and Monet paintings all scandalised themselves with her mother’s touch. Something in the air felt familiar, but Tessa struggled to define it.

“I’d say we made the most of your late-night study sessions,” Kate joked.

Tessa nodded, unsure of which question to begin with. The story would come, but not before a house tour, dinner preparations, and unexpected visitors.

…

“Kate!”

A red-haired woman rushed into her mother’s arms, revealing a dark-haired man in the doorway. Jordan, her sister, winked at Tessa before greeting their guests. The woman gushed at them, as she heard her father ask, “Where are Charlie and Danny?”

But Tessa didn’t hear her response. The man met her eyes, and walked towards them. His black leather jacket brushed against her, as she became transfixed by him.

“Tessa, I’m sure you remember-” her mother began.

She didn’t need to finish.

“Scott,” Tessa said. “Of course, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

…

He had felt elation before. It was often on the ice, after scoring a goal. Or making his nephew laugh. But hearing _Tessa_ say his name was not something he thought he would ever hear again. To know that she remembered him, filled his heart with an ecstasy no victory could rival.

It had not been the reunion he envisioned, but all odds seemed innumerable since their encounter. She made no remark about his failed attempt to give her his number, and he revelled in the Thanksgiving miracle.

His mother, Alma, suggested that him and Tessa re-acquaint themselves in the family room. He happily obliged, while Tessa hesitated to navigate her way through the house.

“I hope you’re not this bad with maps,” he mused, as they circulated the dining room for the third time.

“Not if I’ve been able to sleep,” Tessa quipped.

He studied her face for signs of exhaustion, but was met with a stern gaze.

“Quit staring at me,” she said, tapping his arm.

Her fingers were swift, but the motion was enough to set him into a trance, wondering about all the opportunities they had lost. All the memories they would never have.

“Here it is!” she exclaimed, walking past the kitchen, and down a few stairs.

There were two grey sofas, fashioned with floral and teal cushions. The glass table made for a perfect foot rest, but Tessa glowered at him before he could raise his feet.

He held his arms in surrender, “Had I known this was how you were going to be, I wouldn’t have come.”

“Well, why did you come?” she asked.

Her voice was soft, almost like a whisper. She leaned into her seat before he could reach for her, to tell her that he was only poking fun.

Scott sighed, _Did she not want me to come?_ He thought.

Ilderton and London had been his home for a long time. Not just because they skated together, but because his family had been here. Aunt Carol had taught him to skate in Ilderton, and his mother had studied at the University of Western Ontario. Area was relative, but the life lessons he had learnt were not.

Over the years, his fondness had been replaced by grief. He loved spending time with his family during his vacations, but this year had been especially difficult. Their world had shattered, and the moments of joy were always scattered between emergencies.

“Scott?” she asked, when he realised the silence between them.

And he wanted to tell her that he came to fill the void that they had lost. Not out of loneliness, because they owed it to themselves. Because he didn’t believe in coincidences, that they hadn’t just bumped into each other in Toronto without reason.

Instead, he succumbed to the comfort of her arm, that stroked his back. The understanding between them had always been unwritten, but always palpable. It was not until her thumb stroked his cheek that he felt a tear escape his left eye.

“My family, they’re still here,” he said. “Or most of them. But I came here because I wanted to fill this place with good memories. Ever since my father died, there’s been a hollowness I can’t erase. Mom hasn’t been the same, but you should’ve seen her when Aunt Kate returned. She hasn’t smiled like that in years. I felt it too, when I met you in that scrappy little Starbucks.”

Tessa smiled, stroking his thigh. She didn’t correct him, drawing herself close instead.

“When?” she asked, holding his hand up to her lips. The warmth of her breath heated his cold hands, as he tried to numb the pain of her question.

He looked away, “Right after you left for Toronto.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it! Don't be a stranger, come say hello on [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/celestial_holmes/)!
> 
> Up Next: Grief does not come without anger, and a flashback to what really happened back then.


	3. Can I Have a Moment?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something he needs to say, but Scott isn't the only one with news.

It was a lie, but it also wasn’t.

After Tessa had left London, there had been a brief period of correspondence. They would telephone each other once a week, and catch up on what they had missed out on. Slowly, weeks would become months, and she would _truly_ disappear from his life.

As he watched his father become sicker, he learnt what it meant to suffer alone.

His mother had cried a lot. At first he couldn’t understand why, because she always reassured him that everything would be okay. Charlie and Danny, his brothers, were home more often as the months went on. Eventually they would receive the call. Charlie picked him up early from school one day, and drove them to the hospital. They spent the night worrying and praying.

Scott had called Aunt Kate that day. She never answered.

He couldn’t remember the time between Tessa leaving and his father dying, but it felt immediate. Insufferable.

But when he closed his eyes, the former felt as real as the woman in front of him.

… _May 17th, 1998_ …

_“Stop staring at me!” Tessa said._

_Her words were followed by a laugh, as they finished their rotation. Scott wanted to say that he couldn’t take his eyes off of her because she was so beautiful, but that didn’t seem like the polite thing to do. Instead he mumbled an excuse about not wanting to drop her on the ice._

_It was her birthday, and yet even as he gazed into her glistening eyes, he couldn’t find the courage to explain how he felt. He wanted to surprise her, something he always thought to be impossible, but the words just wouldn’t come out. How was he supposed to know what to say?_

_Tessa had always been different from all the other girls. Not only was she really pretty, but everything mattered more with her. When she criticised him, he listened. When she was upset with him, he apologised and hugged her until she smiled again. And when she cried, everything inside him hurt. He wanted nothing more than to protect her from all the pain in the world._

_They had been skating together for over a year, and he couldn’t have asked for a better partner. She made him happy, but Scott also felt safe around her. Like he could tell her anything, and she wouldn’t judge him._

_Not usually, anyway. His neck coloured as he noticed her green eyes watching him. Could she read his mind? He wondered._

_Tessa knew him well, almost as well as his mom. She knew when he was angry just by looking at his face, and knew when to stay by his side. He felt her hands stroking his arms, and his heart began to race._

_“I - I need to tell you something,” he breathed._

_She nodded, curling her fingers into his hand. Together, they walked off the ice, and onto the benches._

_“Happy birthday, T.”_

_He stroked her palm, hoping she didn’t mind his sweaty hands, as he continued. “I wanted to surprise you, and get you something no one else would-”_

_But he was interrupted by Tessa’s mother, who ran into the stadium._

_“Tessa honey, you made it!” She exclaimed._

_Scott looked confused, shaking his head at both of them._

_“Remember when you said you wanted to become a ballet dancer?” Kate Virtue asked her daughter. “The National Ballet of Canada wants you to join them in Toronto for their program!”_

_His hands slipped from Tessa’s, struggling to understand what was happening. Hours later, he would be waving goodbye to the first girl he liked._

_“I promise I’ll come back,” she said._

_He’d wait twelve years for it to come true. Twelve years to finish his sentence._

…

“I’m so sorry,” Tessa whispered. “I had no idea.”

Scott shrugged, “I remember my brothers leaving me with a nurse in the hospital, and I was so scared, so I tried calling your house number. No one picked up. We hadn’t talked for a while at that point, and you had been really busy with ballet and school.”

“I’m so sorry,” Tessa said. “We moved a lot when we first moved to Toronto. Everything was just so different, and losing the address book didn’t help. But I do wish I had been there for you, because I didn’t forget about you.”

He frowned, recalling how he had memorised Tessa’s phone number by heart when he was ten. Withdrawing from her hands, he spited, “Don’t act like you recognised me at that Starbucks.”

“I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean I forgot Scott Moir. You’re just different, that’s all.”

Different to him felt the same, just older. The woman in front of him had grown taller, become more stressed, but still laughed with insecurity. She still poured her heart into the books she read. And for some strange reason, she didn’t feel like a stranger.

When Scott pulled closer to her, she hesitated.

“I’m not angry at you for leaving,” he clarified. “You have no idea how long I waited for this.”

“Scott-”, she mused as he traced her face.

“I’ve missed you, Tessa.”

He tried to enclose the space before them, and felt something propel onto his lips.

Before he could say anything, Tessa spoke.

“Scott, I have a boyfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it! Don't be a stranger, come say hello on [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/celestial_holmes/)!
> 
> Up Next: Dating life disasters.


	4. Before I Go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love is blind, they say.  
> "Promise me you won't tell anyone," he said.  
> He knows it will destroy her, but confronting him will bury her future.

“Of course you have a boyfriend,” Scott mumbled, after Tessa withdrew her hand from his lips.

His eyes flashed from vexation to rage, as if she had betrayed him from something grave. Pulling away from their proximity, he brushed his fingers through his hair and simply shook his head.

“I would’ve told you sooner if I’d known-” she stuttered.

“If you’d known that I liked you?” he asked. “I get that I made a fool of myself in that coffee shop, and here too, but didn’t you ever wonder why? Has it _never_ crossed your mind?”

She shifted uncomfortably at the distance between them, and scoured the room to avoid the intensity of his gaze. The room that had seemed so spacious now consumed her. Tessa didn’t need to look at him to know how unwelcoming the gold flecks in his eyes were. How unwelcoming his next speech would be. It was moments like this she had run from all her life.

“Just say it,” she hissed when he proved her wrong.

“No, Tessa,” he replied.

His voice was softer than she remembered, less irritated. _Almost like he had given up before trying to argue with her._

“There’s no point,” Scott continued. “I waited _years_ to be able to say anything to you, and even now, I can’t.”

“But why-”

“Gosh Tessa, it’s so obvious - you don’t have to pretend. I mean _nothing_ to you.”

“It’s not nothing,” she insisted. “Things are different now, but you did mean a lot to me, Scott.”

“Did,” he laughed. “See that’s the difference between us - I still care about you.”

“But you don’t even know me,” she quipped.

“Maybe not all of you, but you’re not all that different either.”

Everything inside her wanted to pull him away, to pull something away. There was nothing to hold, so instead she just pressed her nails into the fists of her palms. It felt like the only thing she could control, knowing that every moment he hadn’t been there was another memory he wouldn’t understand.

There was so much she had worked on over the years. One of her proudest accomplishments was her self-confidence. As a child, she had been terrified of determined people. Men with prying eyes, and women with crippling remarks. As a performer, she had heard more criticism than praise, and it had taken a toll on her. The innumerable nights she had spent wondering if it was ever going to be enough. School was no different, and as much as she thrived off the competition, she questioned it every bit as much. Was it worthwhile, tossing herself between essays and exams, day after day - surviving on little else but caffeine?

She opened her mouth to deny his claim, but he raised his arms in protest.

“See? The longer you take to answer, the less convincing you become.”

Tessa was generally a non-violent person, but it took her every last nerve not to punch Scott. After taking a deep breath, she piped, “And it appears that you’re the exact same.”

Scott laughed, “Good one. So tell me about this guy you’re seeing.”

Suddenly his shoulders relaxed, seeming engaged even. _A sudden curiosity chilled through her._ It was almost as if all the seriousness between them had dissipated. Because of course Scott was as temperamental as always. So she focused on his question instead, on the wonderful man who had painted her life with a new hope to get her through life’s relentless waking.

How would she explain it?

_The beginning was simple, she had been lost. Not walking into the wrong class kind of confused, but a vertigo where the movements of her body did not translate to grace. She would arrive to class early to practice, but made little progress. Seven-year-old girls were auditioning for plays, as she learnt the basics. It was embarrassing. Then her instructor gave her a partner, and from a friendship blossomed a lasting courtship. Twelve years, they had known each other. Enough time to forget everything else, if she really wanted to._

While she dazed, almost as if he could hear her thoughts, her phone rang.

Tessa’s head turned towards the table, and she debated answering the call. Scott’s hands were faster than her, as he retrieved the device for her.

A name flashed across the screen, and he scowled.

“Please don’t tell me that’s Fedor Andreev.”

“He’s my boyfriend. Do you know him?”

Scott buried his face in his hands, “The whole country knows him. Tessa, I’m going to tell you something. You have to promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

“What is it?”

“Fedor-”

“What about him?”

“He’s been lying to you.”


	5. 'Cause I've Been By Myself All Night Long

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott decides to break the news to Tessa over a covert dinner, but they're both terrible liars. Things don't go as planned, hearts that break are meant to shatter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the re-upload, this chapter has been intensely revised to set up the upcoming scenes. I hope you enjoy reading it, and please let me know what you think! All my love. ❤

**\- One Week Later -**

“I feel like a fugitive,” she hissed as they entered _The Keg_.

“It’ll be fine,” he replied. “Trust me, you look nothing like yourself.”

“That’s usually the last thing I’d want to hear, but thanks.”

They had made a small detour to the ballet theatre to find Tessa a wig. Upon arriving there, he discovered that she was inept with professional makeup. Luckily, a friend agreed to help them create the disguise. Her dark tresses were tucked underneath a set of golden-brown locks, and a pair of black contact lenses masked her vividly green eyes. With a considerable amount of product on her face, Scott was both pleased and befuddled as to where the woman he loved had disappeared.

However, another problem would emerge once they were seated: Tessa was a terrible actor. While she was a performer by trade, spontaneity was not her forte.

 _“I vood like your best plattur,”_ she slurred.

“What are you doing?” he whispered from across the table.

“I’m trying a new accent.”

“Of a vampire? I can promise you that no one sounds like that.”

She pouted, _“C’est comme un poulet.”_

“What?”

“You know, when you try your best but you don’t succeed?”

“Are you asking me? _Poulet_ means chicken. And you listen to _Coldplay?_ ”

She folded her arms, ignoring her butchering of the French language. With an unwavering confidence she asked, “What do you have against _Coldplay?_ ”

Unbothered, he shrugged. “Nothing, I just prefer _The Hip._ ”

Tessa rolled her eyes, “How much time do we have before they get here?”

“Twenty minutes.”

…

“So, tell me about Marina,” he began.

Tessa glared at him, “I still don’t understand how you’ve never heard of her. She’s the owner of the company, and Fedor’s mother.”

“Dating your boss’s son...I have to say, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Fedor’s so much more than that,” she sighed.

There was a quick smile that accompanied his name when she spoke, and Scott realised the precarious nature of their mission. Of how much weight would be in his hands if he was wrong. It almost made him regret encumbering her with Fedor’s vices, but the images in his mind were pervasive. They had entrenched his mind for too long for him to remain idle. This was the time to be vigilant.

He interrupted her digression to inquire about Marina.

“She’s the one you should be worried about,” Tessa stated. “Marina knows everything. The last time someone tried to lie to her, she cut them off. But she’s also very kind, and a second mother to me. When I first came to Toronto, she welcomed us into her home. She worked with me tirelessly, and insisted that I had a special talent. Sometimes I think she believed in me more than she should have. But alas, she knows me. Fedor, Marina, and I, we’ve been a family ever since I was nine. I’d never want to do anything to hurt that.”

The guilt came flooding back, but he channeled it into their investigation.

“Tell me everything you know about Meryl Davis.”

Her lower lip quivered before she spoke, confirming his suspicions.

“Fedor loved Meryl. They had always been on and off, because of the distance. She was American, and the only place he’d leave Canada for is Russia. When she left to finish school, I saw a very different side of him. He barely ate, spending most of his time at the ballet. No one needed to say it, but the way Meryl broke him, it took years to repair.”

“So when you started dating him, do you think he had moved on?”

“Absolutely. With Fedor and I, everything felt so natural. Things just fell together, I don’t think either of us consciously willed it into being.”

“But didn’t you have a crush on him before you started seeing him?”

“I suppose. Sometimes it’s not about just one big feeling, but all the little impulses. I’ve always felt comfortable with Fedor, he’s my partner. It was just noticing how his energy changed, how we became more aware of each other. Kind of like rediscovering a person.”

Scott nodded. Listening to Tessa talk about Fedor was something genuine, one he understood but had never experienced. None of his relationships had seen the light of day, but he wondered if there had been any hope. If he had been Fedor, if Tessa had never left, would she have loved him then? **_Would he have had a chance?_ **

Before he could respond, a certain couple walked in.

This was their cue.

…

The man appeared young, his dark hair matching his black suit. He stuttered out about 6 _sorry’s_ before they sat at a table three rows away from Tessa and Scott.

“That’s Chiddy,” Scott indicated.

“You mean Patrick Chan,” she corrected him.

“I hope you know that no one calls him that.”

“Wait, aren’t you worried that he’s going to recognise you? And is that Meryl with him? Is she back for good? Scott, we didn’t talk about this!”

He waived her concerns, “Just watch, it’s Chiddy. You really have nothing to worry about. As for Meryl, yes. She’s been dating Chiddy for a year now.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me about that before we got here?”

“I did, but I know you’d never have agreed to come if I had told you everything.”

“Will there be other surprises?”

“Let’s hope not.”

…

Patrick spoke about five words before Meryl ordered for them.

“We’ll start with the Calamari, two New York steaks, and some crab cakes please,” she said.

The waiter made the mistake of staring at her, which she returned by glowering at him.

“I’m a bodybuilder,” she explained. “It’s my cheat day.”

He averted his gaze, scribbling into his notebook before heading towards the kitchen.

“Why does he even put up with her?” Tessa asked.

“Chiddy’s liked her for ages. He’ll do anything for her.” Scott explained.

Tessa grimaced, scouring the setting for a plate with their food on it.

“I guarantee you Meryl will now go to the washroom,” Scott predicted.

Sure enough, she excused herself and abandoned Patrick. This made Scott erupt with laughter, much to Tessa’s chagrin.

“Lower your voice,” she warned. “He might hear you.”

Scott ignored her until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey buddy,” his friend chimed. “What are you doing here?”

“Chiddy…” Scott mused, standing up. “It’s - a surprise to see you.”

“Am I interrupting your date?” he chuckled, shaking Scott’s hand.

“Not at all, this is Ver-”

“Tessa,” she said, “Nice to meet you.”

Patrick’s eyes widened, “As in _the_ Tessa?”

Scott clenched his jaw, “That’s the one.”

Tessa tossed a quizzical look at both of them.

“He talks about you a lot,” Patrick smiled.

Scott kicked his foot from under the table, and instead he offered, “Would you like to join us?”

“No thank you,” Scott replied. “Tessa’s a bit shy.”

Patrick accepted this, and returned to his table. It was no secret that Meryl came across as an intimidating person, and suffice it to say, Scott had not been on a double date with his friend in a while. Not that he minded, of course.

…

“ _The Tessa_?” she asked, delving into their meal.

“I told you I care about you,” Scott said, eyeing her.

“Tell me more,” she teased.

“Why does it matter? You have a boyfriend.”

“Because you should still be able to say it. You should always be able to say what you feel.”

He looked to Meryl and Patrick before speaking, not wanting to see Tessa’s expression. “It feels dumb. You have this great thing with Fedor, and I don’t want to ruin it.”

“You’re not ruining it,” she said, tapping his arm

“Then what are we doing here?”

“We’re just testing a theory.”

“But you believe him.”

_It wasn’t a question. Tessa and Fedor came before he ever met her in that coffee shop. That’s how it would be. He was just trying to warn her before it was too late - he owed her that much._

“Yeah,” Tessa sighed, holding her fork in the air. “I believe him. Of course I do, he’s _Fedor_.”

 _Fedor_. A man he had never spoken to, but despised with all of his being. A man who could make this woman’s life burst with joy, and had no conscience about how easily he could hurt her. And how readily he did.

After thoughtfully finishing his sirloin, he browsed across from them. Meryl was alone, occupying herself with the first plate that arrived at her table. It was 6:29 pm, disaster stood a minute away. The chaos had already begun.

…

A tall man with dark hair and frosty eyes slid beside Meryl, greeting her passionately.

“Любимая моя,” he smiled.

“Fedor,” she crooned.

His body mirrored her, as he kissed her cheek. Bowing his head into the crook of her neck, he whispered something into her ear. She nodded, laughing, and he commented on how remarkable she looked.

“Mamochka is with me,” he explained before leaving the table.

A petite woman with an atrocious fringe scuttled over her forehead took his arm, as he escorted her towards Tessa and Scott.


	6. Hoping You're Someone I Used to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the dinner, and a surprise that leaves Scott rearranging his world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the wait, life has been beyond hectic these past few months. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did in writing it. Please let me know your thoughts and inquiries, all my love. ❤

“So I take it that Scott’s back,” Fedor breathed onto the back of her neck.

His lips brushed against her skin, leaving a hint of the morning cold with them. Tessa’s body lunged forward, stunned at his sudden speech.

He tried to lift her, but a weight tugged at Tessa’s feet. She tried to refocus on the music, singing the lyrics to _Once Upon a December_.

 _Things my heart used to know,_ she reflected, listening to the song that echoed in the background, as they rehearsed **_Anastasia_ **. But still, she could not surrender into him.

It had been a few days since the restaurant incident, but they had barely spoken. There had simply been too much to do. Scott’s mother was visiting from London, and when Tessa wasn’t touring her around the city, she was studying. Meanwhile, Fedor was overseeing Marina’s latest project, and spent most of his time speaking to prospective clients.

He had wished her good luck on her exams, but they avoided texting, knowing that the enormity at hand was not something that could be conveyed in a short message.

Perhaps that was also something that came with knowing and working with someone for twelve years. Tessa and Fedor had not only established their boundaries, but they communicated with their movement in a way that few people could understand. If Fedor was resenting her, Tessa could feel the stiffness in his shoulders. It was instinctual, like a mother bear protecting her cub.  Likewise, the positioning of Tessa’s arms often informed Fedor about the type of practice session they would have. There was the avoidant, the angst, and rarely: the confrontational.

That’s why Tessa wasn’t surprised to find Fedor’s arms at her waist, steadying her. He twirled her around so that she could face him.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Let’s take a break.”

“What?” she asked.

“We need to talk.”

Fedor ushered her into an empty conference room at the back of the building, before closing the door behind them. He folded his arms, taking a deep breath. After a moment of silence, he spoke.

“So, you and Scott.”

“You and Meryl,” Tessa retorted.

He paced around the room, shaking his head.

“Fine, I’ll go first. Mamochka said Mer gave her an offer that she couldn’t refuse. All I know is that she wants to partner with us.”

“But doesn’t Marina hate Meryl?” Tessa asked.

 _Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned_ was the best way to describe Marina. During Fedor’s childhood, they had lived in Russia. One day, Marina had discovered that her husband had been having an affair. She spared no time in divorcing him, and gained sole custody of their son. Not long after, she immigrated to America. Eventually she came to Canada to establish her company, raising Fedor on her own. Needless to say, when Meryl broke up with Fedor, Marina did not leave her unscathed. Tessa had never fathomed that she would return, and had many questions.

“I thought she hated her too,” Fedor finally spoke. “She doesn’t usually believe in forgiveness.”

Tessa laughed nervously, because while Fedor was joking, Marina couldn’t be too pleased with her at the moment.

“How long have you known?” she asked.

Fedor turned towards her, “Known what?”

“That Meryl’s back.”

“Maybe a few weeks.” He cocked his head, walking towards her. “How long has Scott been here?”

Tessa shifted her eyes, “Um, he lives here.”

Fedor raised his eyebrows, hissing, “What?”

“He plays for the Maple Leafs.”

Fedor was practically hovering over her. He didn’t raise his voice, but Tessa could feel his anguish as he glowered at her.

“Let me get this straight: he’s a celebrity, he’s been here this whole time, **_and_ ** you had _no_ idea?”

The softness in his voice sent a spasm through Tessa’s chest.

“Well...I bumped into him _once_ ,” she admitted.

“When?”

“In September.”

He grimaced, “And you didn’t think to tell me that?”

“I didn’t even recognise him.”

“Then how were you at the restaurant with him?”

“Remember when I told you that we were renting a house in London?”

Fedor paused before burying his hands into his face, “I can’t believe this.”

Tessa reached out to pat his shoulder, but he withdrew from her.

“It’s not what you think,” she insisted.

He straightened his back, “What? That this guy who’s clearly in love with you doesn’t want you back? Or the fact that you’ve been hiding this from me?”

“How did you-”

“You’re a workaholic, Tessa. You only want men you work with.”

“Don’t act like you’re any different,” she shook her head.

“Maybe, but this guy almost ended up being me. If you hadn’t moved here-”

“But that’s not what happened.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that I didn’t keep anything from you.”

“So what are you and Meryl?”

"We’re just business partners,” he exclaimed.

It was Tessa’s turn to laugh.

“Do you hear yourself?” she chidded. “We both know those two things don’t go together.”

“Not usually,” he agreed. “But it’s different this time, I have you.”

They gazed at one another, and Tessa’s cheeks began to colour.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was going to tell you, but I let Scott get into my head. You and Marina probably hate me.”

“We don’t hate you,” he grinned, taking her hand. “But Mamochka won’t be happy if she finds out that we’ve been cooped in here all day.”

Together, they returned to practice. There would be more discussions about that fateful night, but eventually they would come to laugh at how ridiculous Tessa’s wig looked. However, their problems were not behind them.

…

“Where’s Tessa today?” Alma asked, observing the city lights from her son’s living room windows.

“She’s probably at work,” Scott replied, setting the dining table.

“This late? No wonder she looked so tired.”

He laughed, “Tessa won’t leave the ballet until someone drags her out of the building.”

Alma smiled at him, “I’m guessing you don’t see much of her then?”

Scott shrugged, “I haven’t really been keeping track.”

She eyed him, “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

“Mom, she has a boyfriend. It’s not my place.”

Alma sighed, “She still deserves to know.”

She scoured the kitchen for oven mitts, and brushed past him to stir the pasta.

“In case I don’t see her before I leave, would you be a dear and give her the package that I put on my bed?”

Scott stared at her, confused.

“But you’re not leaving until Wednesday-”

“Now,” she said, glaring at him.

He disappeared before she started humming _Time After Time_ by Cyndi Lauper.

…

Tessa hadn’t responded to his text, but Scott knew that his mother would accept no excuses but the truth. Shivering, he rang the doorbell of a contemporary-styled home. It amused him that the house was as modern as Kate Virtue’s taste. Of course he had been here before, but he found it difficult to admire anything else when Tessa was in his periphery. Now he could regard the Christmas decorations that settled in the snow without distraction. While the sun had set, the snowman in the front yard brought him joy, looking as intricate as he imagined it’s designer was.

A soft breeze began to pick up, and Scott rang the doorbell a second time. Momentarily, he heard footsteps approaching the door. When at last the door opened, a tall man greeted him.

“Scott, what a pleasant surprise to see you here at this hour.”

Several strands of his dark hair neatly framed over his forehead, contrasting Scott’s disheveled apparel.

“I just came by to drop off something for Tessa,” Scott started. “But I can come by another time.”

“Nonsense,” Fedor said, his eyes greying as he watched the flurries that began to fall from the sky. “You’ve come all this way, in this weather.”

He motioned for him to enter, and Scott accepted the invitation.

“Tessa will be back in a while,” he explained. “Would you like me to get you anything?”

Scott shook his head, examining the gentleman.

Fedor furrowing his brows, “I’ll fix up a hot chocolate in case you change your mind.”

He vanished down a hall, and for a moment, Scott contemplated following him. Instead, he heaved, setting down the box he had brought with him.

In the corner of the room, a prominent object caught his attention. A silver box engraved with Tessa’s name, he didn’t need to open it to know what it contained.


	7. You Still Look Like a Movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott discovers some disturbing news that forces him to make decision that might ruin Tessa's career.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: This chapter contains mentions of abuse. I've waited to publish this chapter because I wasn't sure how to address the topic, and have changed the rating of this work because it felt mature for younger audiences. Although I don't intend to describe the details of the abuse, I understand that it can be upsetting to read. This chapter deals with appropriate responses to help a loved one who is suffering from the affects of abuse, but is not reflective of any real persons mentioned. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to contact me. As always, please let me know what you think, and take care of yourselves.

“You didn’t tell her, did you?”

He shook his head, and Patrick buried his face in his hands.

Scott had mentioned yesterday’s incident to his friend during their morning hockey practice, and had not heard the end of it since. It was evening now, as he stood by the balcony window that overlooked the  _ Rogers Centre _ and downtown Toronto.

“Fedor was there...” Scott trailed, admiring the view of the city. “With that box-”

“What box?” Patrick asked, seated by the breakfast table. 

His fists curled at the sound Fedor’s name, and for a moment Scott wondered if Chiddy was jealous.

“There was a small  _ Tiffany _ box hidden away on the mantel or something,” Scott explained, glancing at him. “The same one you see in all those dumb movies and ads. Tessa loves those things, so I had a feeling that he was going to pop the question.” 

“So why didn’t you wait?”

He frowned, “To see her get married to another guy?”

“No, for her to come home. She deserves to know.”

Scott dug his hands through his hair, leaning over the kitchen island. “He’s her boyfriend,” he said, raising his voice. “What did you expect me to do?”

“How do you not get it?” Patrick whispered.

The softness in his voice startled Scott, and he sat down beside him. He had only seen Chiddy this distressed when his father had been sick, and during their first loss as a team. Both of those events had happened years ago, too blurred from his memory for him to recall his reaction.

Instead Scott asked, “Not get what?”

“Scott! Fedor - he.”

“He what?”

“He hurt Meryl.”

Thunder broke out as lightning filled the skyline, but Scott hadn’t noticed that it had been raining. Anger, frustration, and disbelief all overcame him with such a rush that he knew not what to say. 

“What?” he finally managed to stutter after a prolonged silence.

“She promised me not to tell anyone,” Patrick said. “I’m only telling you this to protect Tessa. I couldn’t do that for Meryl, but you can-”

“You couldn’t have known,” Scott assured him. Patrick’s expression was glassy, which made the puffiness under his eyes all the more prominent.

“I know,” he sighed. “But you can do something. I know you don’t like Fedor, and that you think he’s cheating on her. And honestly, I couldn’t tell you if you were right. However, you need to trust me on this.”

Scott nodded, “Okay. So what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“How long ago was this? What did he do to her?”

“That’s not my place to say.”

“And this is?”

“Yes! We’re talking about Tessa’s safety here.”

“And that’s exactly why she needs to know.”

“The details are personal and horrific, and quite frankly don’t matter. You need to get Tessa away from him.”

“And she won’t unless she knows why. I heard from Tessa yesterday, around lunch time, and she said that Fedor was surprised to see Meryl. There was a mention of some business deal with the company.”

“What deal? Meryl has built her company from the ground-up, she never does collaborations.”

“You’re right, neither does Marina. But why were they so friendly then?”

“Meryl always greets Fedor like that. She has to pretend that nothing ever happened so he won’t get upset. The question is how did he find her there?”

Scott shifted in his seat, and Patrick caught his hands fidgeting from under the table.

“What did you do?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Scott insiststed. “Tessa just recommended that Fedor should visit  _ The Keg _ around the time that you were there.”

“You set us up?” Patrick’s eyes widened. “Why would you ever do that?”

“To prove to Tessa that he was being unfaithful to her.”

Scott realised how unconvincing he sounded after the words were out of his mouth, and he sunk into his chair as Patrick processed the information.

“Let me get this straight: you thought my girlfriend was cheating on me so you tried to set her up with Tessa’s boyfriend?”

“Well, not when you put it like that-”

“But you thought they were secretly hooking up?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me about this? After all this time that you’ve known me? This has got to be the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.”

“I didn’t think you’d believe me.”

“Believe you? When have I ever doubted you?”

Deep down, Scott knew Chiddy was right. He couldn’t think of an answer, and realised the irony of his perception. Sometimes he wondered if Chiddy’s love for Meryl was just an unrequited crush, but he was the one who had been blinded by passion. His desire to prove Tessa wrong had become more important than being a good friend.

“What happened to Meryl is her story, not mine,” Patrick said, reading his mind. “It took her years to open up to me, to see a psychologist, to process the pain. You don’t see how it still affects her, and I’m sure you think she’s too meticulous or demanding. Maybe that’s why you wouldn’t believe it if she was the one telling you this.”

“And I get that being away from someone you love is hard,” he continued. “But you’ve worshipped a woman you hadn’t seen in twelve years, and held every girlfriend to her impossible standard. People aren’t perfect, Scott.”

Scott was silent, and his heart began to sink when Patrick described the events that followed that dinner.

…  _ Flashback  _ ...

“Do you mind if I come over to your place for a bit?” Meryl asked.

“Not at all,” Patrick said, adjusting the front view mirror of his car.

It was an odd request, considering that they had been together for over a year, but he gave it no thought. The drive to his apartment was quiet, and Patrick debated whether to mention his chance encounter with Scott. Before he could decide, he heard her chattering about her wits.

As he hovered his hand over the heater, and she put her hand over his.

“I’m fine,” she said.

“Are you sure?” he asked, noticing that she had removed her gloves.

“Yes,” she smiled, adjusting her toque. “I just want to go home.”

It wasn’t long before they reached the building, and made their way to the top of the elevator.

“We’re here,” he said, turning his keys..

The moment he opened the door, Meryl began taking off her outerwear. Her hat and scarf were the first to be removed, and flew into a vase in the corner of the entrance.

“What’s wrong?” Patrick asked. He had never seen her so frantic or disorganised, for she was usually the one adjusting the furniture arrangements in his suite.

“I need to shower,” she told him. 

“Why? You showered before we left.”

Her eyes shifted, and he walked towards her slowly.

“Meryl, you can tell me. I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

“I just need to get him off of me,” she cried. 

She began to itch her exposed skin, and Patrick tried to remember how they had dealt with situations like this before.

Meryl liked to be comforted, so he gently took her hands into his and squeezed them. He took off her winter boots and walked her in the living room.

“We’ll clean your things later,” he whispered, causing her to laugh. They both knew that all the decor had been wiped and dusted that very morning.

Once they were seated, he asked, “Who do you need to get off of you?”

“Fedor,” she said, her body shaking at the utterance of his name.

“What happened?”

Patrick appeared calm, but he had learnt to disguise his anger for her. In times like this, he knew to prioritise Meryl’s needs. Her trauma was difficult to understand sometimes, but the best he could do was walk through it with her.

“He came into the restaurant.”

“Today?”

“Yes, when you were in the washroom.”

“Oh no. How come you didn’t mention it then?”

“Because I didn’t want to cry.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. Patrick could tell she was still trying to stifle her tears. He could feel her heart racing through her woolen jacket, and knew that she was about to have a panic attack.

“You don’t have to be brave all the time,” he said, brushing her hair. “It’s okay to be upset too.”

“Not around him,” she shook her head. “He’d notice if I had said anything there, he was watching us.”

An uneasy feeling jolted through his body, and he vowed to be more vigilant next time. He contemplated moving to another city, maybe he could be traded into another hockey team. Of course he wouldn’t share that with Scott just yet, but something had to be done.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice,” he said. “What was he like today, my love?”

“I think he was in a good mood today. He looked happy to see me, and whispered that he had not expected to see me so soon.  _ You look as heavenly as I remember _ , he said, before kissing my cheek.

“You do look heavenly,” he remarked, “But what he did is still horrible. What can I do to help?”

“I just need to be invisible, to be somewhere he can’t find me.”

“Like Michigan?” 

“No,” she said. “I like being here with you.”

Patrick wanted to suggest reporting Fedor, but he knew it was too late. Meryl had tried filing a case against her ex-boyfriend a couple of years ago, to no avail. The officers had insisted that there wasn’t enough evidence to warrant an arrest.

“How do you feel about getting a restraining order?” he asked.

“It’s too late for that,” she said. “They’d ask why I was trying to get one now, when it happened years ago.”

“That’s because he’s still here.”

“I know that, but they’ll dismiss the idea. After all, there’s plenty of people who live in Toronto and have never met before.”

“That true,” he said, stroking her thumb. “We’ll think of something, don’t worry. You’re not doing this alone.”

...

“I’m so sorry,” Scott said. “I had no idea.”

He began pacing around the room, ashamed of his own ignorance.

“I know,” Patrick sighed. “But you’ve put Meryl on Fedor’s radar again.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Fedor didn’t know she was back in Canada.”

Scott slammed his foot against the bottom of the kitchen island. Although Patrick worried about him, he failed to notice Scott’s phone screen light up in his hands, that had caused his outburst.

**I need to talk to you** , it read.  **Fedor asked me to marry him.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you or someone you know is dealing with domestic violence, see the link below for a list of resources you can contact.
> 
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_domestic_violence_hotlines

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think, and leave a kudos if you enjoyed it!
> 
> Don't be a stranger, come say hello on [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/celestial_holmes/)!


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